


Fate or Destiny

by vir_tanadahl



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3308303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vir_tanadahl/pseuds/vir_tanadahl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fen'harel has recently woken up from his slumber when he meets a young Dalish mage who tells him the tales of the fall of the Elven Empire. He never thought to see her again, but when he meets her 9 years later he can't decided if it was fate or destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate or Destiny

He roams the coastline in the Free Marches. The mild breeze that is coming from the ocean sprays a thin mist of seawater onto his face. For a moment, he feels relaxed in this new world. He hears the soft crunching of moving sand from behind him. A child perhaps? The footsteps are not heavy enough to be that of men.

Fen’harel turns around and sees a young elf girl hunched next to a bird. She appears to be talking to the creature, but he can’t make out the words over the roll of the ocean. She begins to imitate the movement of the bird, completely unaware of the stranger watching her movements. Her mimicking of the bird is rather strange yet has fluidity to it. His eyes widening in surprise when the girl casts a spell that turns her into a bird.

Fen’harel turns and walks towards the shapeshifter. The bird flies away, but the shapeshifter remains and bounces around. He studies her for a moment before saying, “You have almost mastered this form. Your eyes are golden and not black, however.” A bright light spirals around the girl as she morphs back into herself.

She has the  _vassaslin_  of Sylaise that is red in color and it contrasts with her suntanned skin. Her golden eyes stare up at him with curiosity but gives no answer his critique. “Why is your face marked like that?” Fen’harel inquiries as he bends to the girl's height.

“To honor the Gods.” She answers. “And I have mastered the form. I choose to keep my eyes gold when I change.” She continues with a slight attitude. Fen’harel gawks at her in shock.

“I thought all elves knew about the  _vassaslin_? Is that why you are barefaced? Do you come from the city? You look too…nice to be a city elf.” She states as she walks around his crouching form. She is an incredibly curious child.

“A city elf?” He questions in confusion, “What do you mean?” Fen’harel’s heart begins to pound against his chest.

“A city elf is an elf from the city. They do not follow the old ways. They are not Dalish. But sometimes they come to find us and we take them in and teach them.” The girl answers as she sits down next to him and begins to conjure magic in her hands.

Fen’harel watches the girl’s movement and smiles. He sits next to the girl. “I can do that too.” He tells her and begins to mimic her. The girl's eyes widen in excitement. “You are a mage too?” He nods in agreement.

“Did someone in the city teach you? I heard that you couldn’t do magic in the city because the Templars will find you and take you away. It’s lonely being a mage in the clan though. There are only two of us, not counting the Keeper.” The girl babbles on about her dislike of learning only elven culture and how she wants to explore more and learn about everything she can. She tells him of the one time she snuck into a Chantry, whatever that was, and took a book so she could read it.

Fen’harel is worried about magic being forbidden and who these Templars are. Why would there only be three mages in a clan of elves? Shouldn’t all of the elves have magic? Why does this girl call herself Dalish? He begins to ask her these questions and her shrugs nonchalantly.

“We are called the Dalish because we didn’t bow to the humans when they took back the Dales and broke their promise. We are the strongest bloodline to the ancient elves of Arlathan, I think. And no, only some elves do. Too many mages in one clan are dangerous, so we are forced to send any new mage to another clan or out to the wilds. The humans fear magic and lock up those who do magic into a tower. I think they call it a circle? Or a sphere? I read it in a book somewhere.” The girl answers his questions without missing a beat. It sounds almost rehearsed.

“Arlathan has fallen?” Fen’harel questions in shock, his voice barely above a whisper. The girl nods, utterly oblivious to the stranger’s shock.

“Yeah, Fen’harel locked the gods away and when the humans attacked Arlathan we couldn’t fight them and we prayed to the gods, but no answer came. The stories say that the Dread Wolf hated the elves and that he laughed at our destruction. Most of the elves were sold into slavery and the rest of us…well. Somehow we got to the Dales. Some human gave us the land. I forget the tale.” She replies with a disinterest in the topic at hand.

Fen’harel seethes with anger as he glares at the girl. These elves that call themselves the Dalish blame him for their downfall. He didn’t seal the pantheon for enjoyment; he sealed them away to allow the Elven Empire to grow! “You blame the Dread Wolf?” He demands in anger for her answer. She gazes up at him with confusion and, yet she does not show fear.

“I don’t know. I’m only fourteen. That’s what the stories tell us. We have no written stories of the past, only oral stories that are told to us. I’m sure stuff got added in to make it sound better, or something…” She answers him with a slight pout but does not question his anger.

“What is your name?” The Dread Wolf asks of the young girl who is looking around. “I’m Ellana of Clan Lavellan.” The girl answers with a grin. “What about you?” she questions. Fen’harel pauses for a moment, thinking about what name he should give. “Solas. My name is Solas,” he replies to Ellana.

Both Fen’harel and the girl hear the hard shriek of a sword being removed from its sheath. “Get away from her,  _flat-ear._ ” A voice from behind demands. The girl moves before Fen’harel does. “That is a cruel thing to say!” Ellana answers as she glares at the hunter and doesn’t move from Solas’s side.

“Get over here,  _da’len_. The Keeper is going to be cross with you.” The hunter responds as he points the sword at the young girl. The girl shrugs. “The Keeper is always crossed with me.” She replies with a snarky tone but refuses to move. “Apologize to Solas,” She demands as she crosses her arms and nods to the direction of the stranger next to her.

“Dread Wolf take you, child! Get over here this instant.” The Hunter snaps as he lowers his sword. “After you say you are sorry!” The girl demands again of the young adult. Fen’harel smirks at the rebellious child.

The Dalish hunter lets out an annoyed hiss. “ _Tel’abelas_! There, are you happy now, child?” He says. Ellana glares at him, her face is red in annoyance.

Solas steps in before Ellana can reply. “ _Era seranna-ma. Tel garas solasan, da’len._  You are not the only one that knows Elvish.” Solas replies coolly and he watches the hunter with amusement. 

The hunter’s face turns dark red from humiliation and rage then he storms off without another word. Ellana beams mischievously at the discomfort of the hunter.

“That was funny.” Ellana snickers as she watches the hunter disappear into the woodlands. “But Kasim will be back. His ego is bigger than all of the Free Marches. But, there is a clan to the west named Virnehn. If you seek to learn more about your history.” Ellana explains comfortably while looking up at the taller elf.

Fen’harel nods in understanding as he turns to head west, “ _Dareth shiral, da’len_.” Fen’harel replies with a small bow. “ _Dareth shira_ l, Solas. I hope to meet you again. Go with Mythal’s blessing.” The girl smiles as she waves farewell. 

Ellana watches the retreating figure that has robes that are too nice for any Dalish or city elf to own with his long brown dreadlocks swaying as he walks away. She does not know that she had spoken with the Dread Wolf.

Fen’harel heads to the west in search of the clan that young child mention and when he finds them they welcome him into their clan. He tries to explain to them about his form of magic and how they got history wrong, but the clan reacts in anger. They call him a hedge-mage and a flat-ear who does not know he what speaks of. He leaves in anger for the elves of this time are not the same elves from his time.

Fen’harel planned on never seeing the girl again. But Fate surprises him when he discovers that the girl he met nine years ago is the young woman who has the mark of the Dread Wolf on her hand and is the one who stepped out of the Fade. Fortunately, she will not recognize him for he has changed his face, but she will die if he does not try to control the magic that is embedded in her hand. 

When they meet again on the snowy mountainside near the Temple of Sacred Ashes, she does not recognize him and does not question his name. He introduces himself after the  _durgen’len_ , Varric. Her craving for knowledge and curiosity has not changed in the last nine years as she asks him about the mark on her hand and the tear in the sky.

Her flirtatious comments catch him off guard, but he welcomes her attention, despite his own warning against it. Her craving for knowledge and her attempts at capturing his affection are too hard to resist. Whether it is fate or destiny that return her back into his life, he is unsure of. But Ellana from Clan Lavellan is his best chance of regaining his orb.


End file.
